For one week every August, Redemption Camp along the Lagos-Ibadan expressway becomes as much a marketplace as it is a site of worship. This year’s Redeemed Christian Church of God (RCCG) convention, held from August 3rd to 9th, drew its usual crowd of worshippers seeking prayer and healing.
But behind the spiritual programme, hundreds of vendors turned the week into one of their most consequential trading periods of the year, paying for stands, undergoing mandatory health screening, and, for some, taking losses they can barely afford.
Interviews with vendors across the camp reveal a trade economy operating in parallel with the church’s official programme; one with its own costs, risks, and rewards, largely invisible to the worshippers it serves.
A Reliable Platform for Business
Divine Prince, who sells phone accessories under Divine Communication, has attended enough conventions to draw a clear distinction between it and the church’s other large gatherings. ‘Convention is every year, and it’s always different from other programmes like Special Holy Ghost Service or Holy Ghost Service,’ he tells Sunday Tribune. ‘Convention is the best way to advertise your goods.’
For Aluko Oluwapelumi, who runs the bag business Preal Haven, convention is also a chance to clear inventory that has not moved.
‘Apart from the spiritual aspect, which is the key thing, I feel good because there’s an option to sell goods that have not been out in a while,’ she says. ‘My kind of brand, my customers expect new arrivals every time. Some items just get stocked and aren’t moving, so during convention I get to showcase them to a larger audience and connect with people.’
Not every vendor is chasing sales figures. Oyindamilola Arogudada of D’Honey Spot and Victoria of Veekee Threads say they came to camp primarily for visibility and networking; an opportunity to put their brand in front of an audience that could carry it beyond convention week.
The Cost of Entry
Sunday Tribune gathered that setting up at convention carries a cost that goes beyond the price of a stand.
A stand costs roughly ?20,000, according to Prince, who registered through the church’s CRM system. Aluko Oluwapelumi, who runs the bag business Preal Haven, paid between ?42,000 and ?45,000 for a stand and canopy, depending on the product category. ‘It’s not free; we pay for the stand and we pay for the canopy,’ she says. ‘The total I paid was ?42,500, including canopy.’ Oyindamilola, who secured space through a private hotel rather than the church’s official channel, says she paid separately for a tent and the space itself.
Beyond the direct costs, vendors describe a toll that does not appear on any receipt. ‘It takes a whole lot,’ Oluwapelumi says. ‘Apart from my goods – with or without convention, I would restock anyway – there’s getting the canopy, paying for the stand, the back and forth of registration. I can’t even quantify it, because it’s emotional stress, physical stress, everything.’
For food vendors and hairdressers, entry comes with an additional requirement: mandatory health screening.
Oni Esther, who works at the White Suite Indomie Spot, says vendors undergo medical checks, including HIV tests, before being cleared to sell.
‘Before we start selling, we go for check-up, because they don’t allow people to just come in and sell for people here,’ she says. ‘They test us if we are fit. They do HIV tests and all, so we don’t infect people coming for the programme. It’s not only us; it is all food vendors and hair salons.’
Oyindamilola, who runs a snack stand, confirms the requirement applies to her business as well. ‘It cost a whole lot; let me say roughly ?500,000 or more,’ she says. ‘I had to go through medical tests. You have to submit your health documents to be assured you’re fit to do the job.’
Uneven Returns
Despite the outlay, convention does not guarantee a profitable week, and vendors describe adapting their strategies from year to year in response.
Blessings Afolabi switched her product line after a disappointing run selling small chops at previous conventions, bringing slippers instead this year.
‘It’s different for me this year, because this isn’t what I was selling before, but people are patronising me,’ Afolabi tells Sunday Tribune. ‘The small chops didn’t have much gain; that’s why it’s different this year, because I’m seeing profit.’
Oluwapelumi describes her experience as inconsistent. Buyers, she says, tend to delay purchases until the convention’s final days. ‘Most people say they’ll come back Thursday, Friday, Saturday; they don’t want to spend all their money before going home, so they prefer to come at the end.’
A late change in her stand’s location, from a higher-traffic spot to one outside her target market, has compounded the difficulty. Pricing has been a further point of friction: ‘Someone said ?8,000 is too expensive for a bag that normally sells for ?10,000 to ?12,000 and people buy it at that price elsewhere. Coming here is even discouraging, because they still want me to slash it further.’
But other vendors report the opposite experience.
‘I make sales, I can’t even wait,’ Afolabi says. ‘It always feels like there should be convention here every day. If I sold my goods here every day, I would make far more.’
Similarly, Esther says her stand sees similarly strong returns: ‘We do make sales more than on normal days. During Holy Ghost Service we make sales, but convention is when we make the most.’
Balancing Trade and Worship
With the church programme running alongside the trading day, vendors have adopted different approaches to staying connected to the convention’s spiritual purpose.
Divine Prince, a member of the church, says he does not feel the two pull against each other. ‘I go for the programme from 9:30am, and when Daddy finishes, I come back,’ he says. Oluwapelumi says the service is projected near the vendor stands, allowing traders to follow proceedings between customers.
Not all vendors have that access. Afolabi says she has no one to mind her stand, ruling out in-person attendance. Esther says her team previously had a speaker relaying the service but no longer does. ‘We feel left out, but there’s nothing we can do. We work for the office, and they don’t allow us to go to the auditorium to watch, so we have to stay here.’
Oyindamilola and Victoria have found an alternative: streaming the service online from their stand using a personal speaker and power bank. ‘I’ve been connecting since Monday, straight through to Friday for the main service,’ Victoria says. ‘We’re not only here for the business.’ Oyindamilola adds: ‘I don’t feel left out, because I joined online. As I’m working, I’m praying.’
A Trade-Off Vendors Keep Making
Some vendors have traded at convention for more than a decade; others are attending for the first time.
The costs – a paid stand, mandatory health screening, and a customer base that expects convention-week discounts regardless of a vendor’s margins – are consistent across both groups. What varies is the return. For vendors like Afolabi and Esther, this year has justified the expense. For others, including Oluwapelumi, the outcome remains uncertain even as the convention draws to a close.
What keeps traders coming back, by their own account, is the scale of opportunity the week represents; one that no other point on the church calendar offers.